


I Swear, I've Been Doing Fine

by partypaprika



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Quack quack quack!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2809745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/pseuds/partypaprika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the summer of 2008 and Adam has just turned 26 and finished his fourth season in the NHL. He's finally started to feel settled with his team, his friends and his life. So of course it's the perfect time for his former best friend to be traded to his team. And by the perfect time, Adam means that it could not possibly have had worse timing. Maybe the Thrashers need a new left wing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Swear, I've Been Doing Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abstractconcept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/gifts).



There was a more than reasonable chance that Adam’s tie was actually going to strangle him. Adam discretely tried to loosen the snake currently masquerading as a tie around his neck. It didn’t seem to help. So he settled for pulling at his collar and trying to take deep measured breaths to calm himself down.

Up on dance floor and currently gripping his cell phone like his life depended on it, Charlie Conway, former best friend extraordinaire, stared at Adam, his mouth hanging slightly open. Adam was positive that at least half of the wedding guests were probably doing their own spot on imitations as well.

All that Adam really wanted in that moment was to bolt from the table, the tent--from the entire wedding. But, since presumably every other person in the tent was staring at him, that made a clean getaway all but impossible. So, instead, Adam gave a half-hearted smile in Charlie’s direction, mentally willing Charlie to stop staring. Charlie didn’t even blink.

God damn it, Adam thought. He knew that he should have declined the RSVP and just sent that nice kitchen set from the registry instead.

 

 

Back in college, Adam couldn’t have ever imagined not being friends with Charlie. After all, much of his high school life had revolved around the guy. They'd been friends after their first season on the Ducks together. And the whole team had been especially close after the Junior Goodwill Games. But, even with the Junior Goodwill Games, Charlie and Adam hadn't been especially close until high school and the transfer to Eden Hall.

Charlie had always been the more social of the two of them and he had always made sure to include everyone in group activities. Boarding school only seemed to up the ante and Charlie thrived socially on campus. Adam was one of the more quiet guys on the team and normally Adam was content to just hang on the sidelines. Charlie seemed to take that as a personal offense and he took it upon himself to make sure that Adam was included in Eden Hall social life.

That apparently meant dragging Adam to whoever was throwing a furtive party in their dorm room that weekend or out to the restaurants, the coffee shop or the mall on their rare off-campus days. Plus Charlie took his hockey leadership seriously and was determined to be a leader on the ice, as well as off it. So Charlie took to joining Adam for early morning skates, the two of them practicing on their own for hours.

It was midway through senior year when Charlie grabbed Adam’s arm while Adam was grabbing his math book from his locker.

“Hey Banksy, let’s skip last period.”

Adam gave Charlie a dubious look. “Don’t you have a quiz next period in history? I heard some guy talking about it in English this morning.”

Charlie looked smug. “Nope—I went and told Mr. Morehouse that I wasn’t feeling well during my study period and he let me take it early so that I could go to the nurse’s. So, I have the entire next period free.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Well, I have math. I don’t think that Ms. Spencer will be all that enthused about me ditching.”

“Aww, come on Banksy. She’s not going to really care. She rarely takes attendance anyways. And if she does, you can always say that you went straight to the nurse’s. She loves you and would totally believe you.”

Charlie was giving Adam such a hopeful look that Adam felt his resolve fade away. He sighed and started putting back his math book.

“Alright, fine. I suppose I can ditch. But if we get in trouble, I am definitely blaming it on you.”

Charlie gave Adam a lopsided grin. “Of course.” He said, although they both knew that if they got into trouble, both of them would insist that it had been their idea, really, Ms. Madigan.

 

They ended up grabbing some hot chocolate and sitting behind the soccer field bleachers, which blocked the majority of the wind.

“Heard back from any schools yet?” Charlie asked suddenly.

“Like college?” Adam asked, slightly confused.

“No, pre-school. It'd be a dream fit! Yes, college.” Charlie said, laughing.

“Oh, not yet.” Adam said. “I mean, I’ll probably get into UND and Boston and Denver, but they're really just back-ups. As long as I get drafted, I'll play on whatever NHL team drafts me.”

Charlie sat up from where he had been slouching against the back of the bleachers. “Wait—you’re not going to college?”

Adam shrugged. “My dad says that the best players go straight to the pros instead of going to college. He thinks I’ll develop more quickly there where I can just focus on hockey. Plus, if I enter the draft, then I lose NCAA eligibility.”

“You don’t sound that excited. Is that what you want?” Charlie’s voice was careful.

“I guess? I mean, yes. I, of course, want to play in the NHL." Adam sighed. "I don’t know. I really want to play pro hockey--I've wanted it forever. But, I also can't imagine not playing with the Ducks. Sometimes I think it'll happen, that we'll just keep playing together, throughout college or something."

There was a long pause and then Adam laughed. "I know it’s stupid, it’s not like the Mighty Ducks can all play college hockey together. That’s not how it works.”

Charlie was quiet for a second. “You know, up until this minute, I assumed that you were going to college and all I would have to do would be to sweet talk you into going to the best hockey school that would accept me. It hadn’t even occurred to me that we might not even go to school together.”

Adam looked over at Charlie who was staring at Adam, painful earnestness on his face. “You did?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know that we can’t play together forever. I know that the rest of the Ducks won’t probably try to play pro at all. Well—maybe Julie will. But everyone else is going to go off to college next year and start preparing for whatever they’re going to do for the rest of their lives. They might play club hockey or some DIII or DII hockey but they’re probably going to pick schools for their academic programs or for a million other reasons that aren’t related to hockey. And you’re definitely good to be drafted into the NHL, probably first round, so I can see why you might want to go pro right away. I’ll be lucky to get drafted period and that would be after I prove myself in college, show that I’m worth putting on a professional roster. But I guess I always thought that me and you would have a few more years of playing together before we took the NHL by storm.”

Charlie hadn’t stopped looking at Adam the entire time. Adam’s stomach did a little flip flop. Adam lay back onto the ground, ignoring the chill biting into his back, and closed his eyes.

“College.” He said quietly. Adam felt Charlie flop down next to him.

“What?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing, Spazway.” Adam said. “I was just trying to think how I’m going to break it to my dad that I’m going to college next year.” Adam could feel Charlie quickly turn and look at him, but Adam kept his eyes closed, the thought of looking at Charlie right now felt a little overwhelming. “Man, is he going to kill me or what.”

 

 

Adam’s dad, predictably, pitched a fit when Adam told him about his post-graduation plans. But even though Adam’s dad yelled at Adam that he was making a huge mistake until his dad’s throat must have been raw, Adam stood firm.

“You’re throwing away your future.” His dad said over the kitchen island, finally exhausted. It was a good thing that Adam was good at hockey—if they both didn’t know that Adam would be eligible for hockey scholarships, his dad would probably have refuse to pay for college in an attempt to strong-arm Adam.

“I’m not throwing away my future—I’m building on it.” He said. “It’s unlikely that I’ll go straight into the NHL, even if I’m drafted in the first round and I’d rather spend my time getting an education and playing hockey. I won’t be able to play hockey forever, you know. A college degree can’t hurt.”

Adam’s dad glared at him harder as if mental will power could prevent the someday inevitable end of Adam’s hockey career.

 

By mid-March, Charlie and Adam had been accepted into all the colleges that they would most likely get into, so they sat down and reviewed their offers. They had pushed it off for a while and the most of the team had already made their college decisions. Julie had committed to Minnesota back in December, and Connie, Dwayne and Ken had committed to DIII teams where they’d be able to get full rides.

After weighing out the schools, they narrowed it down to North Dakota and Denver. “So what do you think?” Charlie said, holding out the two schools’ acceptances letters in front of them. “Less cold or more cold? Reasonable weather or soul-crushing, but man-making winter?”

Adam looked at the two letters and frowned. UND had a very prestigious and extensive history. There was a clear and well-trod path to the NHL. But Denver had a talented young team. Adam and Charlie would be more likely to see a lot of ice time, even as freshmen. Plus, the Ducks had given Adam a fondness for the underdog. After all, that just meant that it would be that much more impressive when Adam and Charlie succeeded.

“I’m thinking Denver.” Adam said. Charlie looked a little surprised, but pleased.

“Alright cake-eater, I’ll go to the cushy, wimpy school for you. Never let it be said that I never made any sacrifices for you.” Adam rolled his eyes and flicked Charlie’s head.

 

None of the other Ducks were surprised to hear that they had decided to go to Denver together. “Of course you’re both going to Denver.” Goldberg said. “I hear that they have a major in co-dependency. Should be right up your alley.”

Charlie laughed. “I hear that they also have a class on stopping pucks 101. If you came, we all could take classes in things that we should definitely know by now.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You see this, cake-eater? I bust my balls goaltending for you guys through thick and thin and this is the thanks that I get.”

“I think it’s probably all been on the thicker side.” Adam said innocently. Charlie started snickering and high-fived Adam over Goldberg’s head while Goldberg just glared at both of them traitorously.

 

Connie looked pleased when they told her. “That’s good. Banksy, you make sure that Charlie doesn’t get in too much trouble. Remind him that pranking the varsity team isn’t probably the very best way to make a great impression. Save the shaving cream pies until they can’t throw him off the team. Charlie, make sure that Banksy has some fun. Don’t let him be all…” she waved a hand in Adam’s general direction. “You know, like he has a tendency to be.” Adam made a face.

Charlie laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

 

 

Graduation rushed by too quickly. Adam felt like he would feel different upon graduating from high school--a project eighteen years in the making. Instead, the day felt rushed and over too quickly, one last picture of the Mighty Ducks team in their graduation caps taken by all of their parents, and then everyone was gone, home to be with their families.

Although everyone had promised to keep in touch as everyone hugged goodbye near the graduation stage, it felt like the end of an era. Even Adam's dad must have sensed Adam's downcast mood, because for the first time in a while, they didn't fight once during the day about going off to college.

 

 

Adam’s dad had held steadfast to his belief that Adam should be trying to get on his NHL team, do the juniors route etc. But, when it came to go to school, he willingly drove Adam and Charlie down to school and helped them move into their dorm rooms since Charlie’s mom wasn’t able to get off.

Right before Adam’s dad left to go back to Minnesota, he took Adam outside and gave him a firm hug. “I’ll be down for your games.” He said. “Do a good job out there.”

Adam nodded and hugged him back. They stayed like that for a minute until Adam's dad cleared his throat and stepped away. "Play hard. Stay safe." He said. Charlie thankfully didn't say anything when he showed up in Charlie's room later, Adam's eyes still red.

 

 

Adam thought that he would have figured out the juggling sports and classes thing in high school. But as it turned out, high school and college were leagues apart in terms of workload. So, for the first semester, Adam felt like he never stopped running. Running to class, running to practice, running to get back to his dorm to do homework. Sleep became an especially rare commodity, generally reserved for Sunday mornings.

However, even with all the additional homework and no free time, Denver felt like the right choice. The team was young since a good chunk of the previous year’s team had graduated. Coach Gwozdecky was hard—he would have given Coach Orion a run for his money. But, Coach Gwozdecky clearly knew his stuff. He worked the team, pushed them to their limits, and was firm but fair.

Of course, Charlie got along great with the guys, doing his Charlie thing and instantly making friends. There wasn’t a party that Charlie wasn’t invited to or a social event that he didn’t know about.

Adam, on the other hand, did his own Adam thing, which consisted more of just focusing on playing and practicing hard and filtering out most of the rest of it. Adam had been serious when he told his dad that he wanted to learn and that going to college wouldn’t derail his NHL dreams. He hadn't quite anticipated the amount of work that he would have from both, but no one had ever said that Adam wasn't capable of rising to the challenge.

Charlie decided that this meant that it was his duty to drag Adam out every weekend to some friend of a friend’s party. The parties weren’t really his scene, but he wouldn’t deny that it was pretty fun to watch how ridiculous some of the guys on the team were when drunk. And if anyone fell asleep and had sharpie drawn on them, well that was their own fault.

One Saturday afternoon, Charlie was recovering from the previous night on Adam’s bed while Adam worked on an essay for his entrepreneurship class.

“That girl last night was pretty into you.” Charlie said, his voice muffled by one of Adam’s pillows.

Adam shrugged. “Maybe? I wasn’t really into her though.”

Charlie lifted up the pillow. “Really? She was pretty hot.”

“I guess so. But she’s not really my type.” Adam definitely couldn't have dated any girl that he wanted. But there had been more than a few offers, overt or not, since the season had started up. Adam just hadn’t felt especially into any of them.

“What is your type?” Charlie asked.

Adam shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what your type is?”

“Maybe? Maybe, I don’t have a type. Maybe my type is hockey.” Adam said, finally starting to get a little frustrated. He had to turn this in on Monday and they had practice today and he had to do dry land training tomorrow.

Charlie dropped the pillow back on his head. “Geez, forget I asked anything. Your type is hockey. That does not surprise me at all.”             

               Adam expected to forget about the conversation, dump it into the group of millions of inane things that he and Charlie had talked about. Instead, for the next couple weeks, he couldn't help flashing back to Charlie looking at him, asking just who Adam's type was.

 

 

               Second semester started and Charlie started seriously dating a girl named Lilah. Adam hated her almost instantly. Lilah was a freshmen just like them, from New York, and super peppy. She flipped her hair all the time. It drove Adam crazy.

               “So on a scale of one to ten, how into Lilah are you?” Adam had asked after Charlie and Lilah had hung out more than a few times and Charlie had confided there’d been some making out. Charlie had gotten a starry-eyed look on her face.

               “She’s amazing.” He had said. “I like her so much.”

               Adam had felt faintly nauseated.

 

               The arrival of Lilah also coincided with the team hitting a wall. They had started the season strong, but Deeks, one of their top defensemen, had a puck to the arm and fractured his wrist and Jerry, their goalie, pulled his groin in the beginning of February.

               Objectively, Adam knew that Lilah was not responsible for the team’s performance. Rationally, he knew this. But, he couldn’t help feel like she had brought this on the team. If only Charlie hadn’t started dating her, they would still be doing well in the conference, set to be seeded high for the playoffs. Instead, the team barely managed to scrape a measly .550 average and didn’t even make the NCAA tournament.

Although Adam ended the season having performed reasonably well, he couldn’t help but feel like he had done something wrong. That if he had done something different along the way, the team would have managed to make the tournament playoffs.

Having to finish the semester and prepare for finals felt like an insufficient punishment for the end of the season, so Adam kept up his training where he normally would have relaxed for a few months, trying to build up his stamina and muscle mass.

               Charlie also seemed to take the loss hard—when he got back, he broke up with Lilah (the only silver lining). He also kept training with Adam, eventually recruiting some of the other team players to join them.

               “We’ll get them next year.” Charlie said to Adam, one night after a particularly grueling run. “There’s no way we can lose—we just have to bring some Mighty Ducks spirit to the team.”

 

               Charlie wasn’t exactly right, although he wasn’t wrong either. The team did get better next year. And while the team kept moving forward, so did their academics. By the middle of their sophomore year, Adam and Charlie had both picked majors. Adam decided to do business while Charlie went for sports management.

In a change of pace, Adam briefly dated a girl named Melinda after meeting at a friend's party and hitting it off. They only dated for what felt like a few minutes, mutually breaking up before winter break. The official excuse was that Mel would be going on a semester abroad in Italy for the second semester, but despite how great Mel had been, Adam felt like his heart had never really been in it.

               The team faced another series of injuries, but unlike the previous year, managed to pull through them, finishing the regular season strong and making it to the NCAA tournament after snagging the automatic bid from their division. They ended up losing to Michigan in the West Regionals, but it felt like a huge improvement over freshmen year. Even better, both Adam and Charlie’s names were thrown around as strong prospects and both of them had gotten interest from a few pro teams.

 

Junior year, Adam and Charlie moved off campus and into a house with four of the other guys on the team. Adam managed to pass his classes (although some were definitely by the skin of his teeth) despite the fact that their house was the central gathering spot for the hockey team, which meant that there were always people over, being loud, playing video games and drinking, unless there was a game that day. Game day meant everyone sacked out for a pre-game nap.

               Charlie continued to shine and in mid-January Coach Gwozdecky moved Charlie up to the first line, centering Adam on left wing. Everything seemed to be coming together and Adam began to feel like maybe this was their year.

               So of course, as soon as Adam thought that, the universe was obligated to prove him wrong in the form of an illegal check into the boards in his defensive zone during a Colorado/Denver game. Adam blacked out and when he came to, he was being loaded up onto a stretcher on the ice. He tried to protest that he was fine, but the trainers softly told him that they had to take him off ice for further evaluation.

               The concussion side-lined him for four weeks. Just enough time for the team to drop a couple games and fall out of playoff spot. By the time that Adam got back at the end of February, they were just barely in contention for wild-card spot.

Losing to UND and officially ending their season made Adam feel like it was freshmen year all over again. When they got off the bus on campus, Adam headed straight back to the house, barely waiting for Charlie to catch up.

For once, Charlie didn’t try to make Adam feel better. He just stayed close behind Adam as they made their way across campus, letting Adam rehash every moment that he had been on ice in the 5-2 loss.

 

Later that evening, Charlie came and found Adam on the roof. Adam and Charlie had discovered a way to get up to the top and there was a small square space where two people could sit if they stayed relatively motionless. When Charlie opened up the small entrance and poked his head out, held out a six-pack of beer.

“Want some?” He asked. Adam held up his own beer in response. Charlie nodded in approval. “How about some reinforcements then?”

Adam shrugged and scooted over a little for Charlie.

“This one sucked.” Charlie said, once he had settled down and cracked open a beer.

“Yeah.” Adam said.

There really wasn’t much else to say so they sat there drinking for a while. Adam finished the rest of his drink and one of Charlie’s. “Maybe I should have gone through the draft.” He said quietly, looking up at the stars instead of over at Charlie.

Adam could feel Charlie tense up next to him. “Do you really think that?” Charlie asked finally.

“Yes—I don’t know—maybe.” Adam said. “I like it here. I like the team and I like the guys. But sometimes it feels like I’m moving backwards instead of forwards. My dad is right that I have a limited amount of time to play professional hockey. What if I blow my chance?”

Charlie snorted. “That’s total bullshit, ok, Adam? You could go and play varsity club hockey over in California and you would still be the best player our age. You’re going to make it in the NHL no matter what.”

Adam felt oddly gratified at Charlie’s words. “And,” Charlie continued. “For what it’s worth, I’m really happy that you decided to go to college. These have been the best three years of my life.”

Adam’s chest gave a brief tug and Adam felt like he needed some air or something, anything to cool down. Before Adam could try to say anything, Charlie gave Adam a small smile. “Ok, enough with being maudlin—Micks is having a ‘fuck this’ party and I said we’d go. Ready to drink until we can’t remember how the season ended?”

Adam let Charlie drag him to Micks and Vinnie’s place. Despite the not insignificant amount of alcohol that they consumed, neither one was really able to forget that their season was over, but Adam let Charlie’s words warm him throughout the night. Besides, Adam told himself, they were going to come back stronger than ever next year. They were going to make it to the Frozen Four and Adam and Charlie were going to make it to the big show.

 

               Senior year started with a bang. Coach called the team together for the first team meeting. After he went over the team rules, GPA requirements, and the usual stuff for the new freshmen, he looked over at Charlie and Adam.

               “This year,” Coach said, keeping his eyes on the two of them. “Our captain will be Charlie Conway.” Next to Adam, Charlie’s back had become ramrod straight while Coach kept talking. “Charlie will act as a conduit between the team and the coaching staff, so while you are always welcome to come talk to me, if you find it easier to talk to Charlie, that’s fine as well.”

               Adam looked over at Charlie, who was staring back at Coach. His cheeks were bright red and he was trying to hold in a smile and just barely succeeding. As soon as Coach continued on to other topics, Adam elbowed Charlie. “Congrats, Spazway.” He said in a low voice. “You did it.”

               Charlie gave Adam a wide smile. “I can’t believe he picked me.”

               “I can.” Adam said. “Although I don’t recommend going the Eden Hall route here—I don’t know if they’re going to be willing to change their mascot to accommodate your fowl preference.”

               Charlie rolled his eyes. “Shut up."

              "No thanks."

               "Actually," Charlie said thoughtfully. "I think I can make you do that now. I am captain now.”

               Adam laughed.

 

               The team felt solid and strong. Adam refused to think of it as anything more in an attempt to not jinx the team, but the team felt like it could do well if they managed to avoid their usual pitfalls. Since the team had largely stayed the same from the previous year, with only two seniors graduating, it felt like a continuation of the season before rather than a more abrupt start.

               Charlie fit naturally into his role as captain, really just doing the same stuff as he always did, and he continued to excel on ice. When Adam played with Charlie, their line felt unstoppable, infinite, like they could play this way forever.

               The connection showed on the ice as well. Adam and Charlie were racking up points and the team kept winning. When they made it into the WCHA tournament in March, the whole team celebrated by throwing a party at Charlie’s and Adam’s house.

               “We’re going to make it this year.” Adam confided drunkenly to Charlie while they watched a round of d-men against forwards in Let’s Get Smashed Bros.

               Charlie laughed and tried to pat Adam’s head, missing and just patting the side of Adam’s cheek. “You bet we are, buddy.”

               “Charlie!” One of the freshmen, was it Davey? Or maybe Reks? Adam squinted, but couldn’t really figure it out. Freshmen were interchangeable anyways. “Charlie, we need another player for beer pong.”

               “Duty calls.” Charlie said, standing up in one fluid motion. “You want to come, cake-eater?” He held out a hand.

               Adam looked at Charlie for a few seconds, at the huge smile on his face and the relaxed fit of his shoulders. Charlie gave him a quizzical look after a few seconds passed. Adam shook himself to wake up, shake off whatever it was. “Nah, I’m good.” He said. “I’ll just chill here for a little while longer.”

 

               The WCHA tournament had one of the automatic bids to get into the NCAA tournament, so the whole team felt the importance of getting out there and going strong through the tournament. This was their best shot into the tournament—any failure here and they would have to get one of the at-large bid which would be solely based on their record.

               Coming into the tournament, the team had been doing pretty well, so the team was seeded fourth. It did mean that they were matched up against Colorado, which always meant a charged game, but nothing that the team couldn’t handle.

               Except, once the team got out there for their first game, they couldn’t handle it. After a season of solid passing, reading plays as they developed, stifling defense and hardworking offense, Denver couldn’t seem to mount anything even resembling a good game. Adam, Charlie and Micks started the game and all three of them seemed to move like molasses.

               Their first shift out, the team was unable to get the puck out of the defensive zone. When Jones finally got a solid outlet pass to Adam, Adam skated it out past the redline and dumped it into the offensive zone before skating to the bench. Adam had barely managed to catch his breath on the bench when Colorado scored.

               Adam groaned and looked up at the replay to watch number 39 on Colorado deke it between Rigster and Kands on D and put it right in the five hole of Berkhoel, their goalie.

               It didn’t get any easier. Colorado scored again another two minutes later. Denver just started falling apart as the whole team struggled to run coherent plays. Near the end of the first, Charlie finally managed to get a solid pass out to Adam who was able to put one top shelf. But even with the goal, there was no shift of momentum and Adam could feel that the entire team was demoralized going into the locker room.

               For a brief moment in the second, it felt like the team was going to power through their funk when Charlie tied it up on an assist from Adam. But less than thirty seconds later, Richie took a hooking penalty and Colorado scored right off the face-off.

               Colorado scored again in the third to make it 4-2. Coach pulled Berkie with two minutes left, and even though Adam scored again, it wasn’t enough to tie it up.

               Coach looked livid in the bus on the way back to school. He read them the riot act about their play, their team mentality, pretty much tore apart every aspect of the game. Adam sat there the entire time, grimly taking it in. After that game, the team deserved it.

 

               It was a best of two series, so they had another chance to stay in the tournament, back in the Magness Arena. But this game was even worse than the first. The team seemed to give up before they even got on the ice and the game ended at a humiliating 1-6.

               Coach didn’t say anything on the way back.

 

               On Monday, Coach told the team to take a knee before practice. “Alright guys,” He said. “We’re going to start from a clean slate. We can still make the NCAA tournament. We’re going to take each game, one at a time. We can play good hockey. I know that we’re capable of it and you know that we’re capable of it. Are you guys ready to start over?”

               Adam responded, “Yes, Coach,” along with the rest of the team.

               Coach gave the team a long look. “Alright, let’s get out there and work hard.”

 

               Adam lived, breathed, ate and slept hockey for the next four weeks. Ohio State, Colorado and Wisconsin were all on their tails for the at-large bids, but the team held strong. With two games left in the season and a win against Notre Dame, Denver finally secured one of the at-large bids.

               Unlike the WCHA tournament, everyone seemed to unofficially decide to not go out and get hammered after securing their spot. A couple of the guys came over for a beer or two and some video games, but everyone seemed to be focused on staying as mentally ready as possible.

               Even though he tried not to think about it, Adam knew that it would most likely be the last year that he and Charlie played together. He wanted them to go out on a high note, not a crappy one. Charlie hadn’t said anything to Adam, but Adam could tell that Charlie was also serious about their team’s performance. Charlie took the weight of his captaincy seriously and spent much of the time leading up to the NCAA tournament talking with the players who needed reassurance or corralling Adam into helping him work on his face-offs in their free time until Adam felt like he would go crazy.

 

               The tournament started at the very end of March and Denver was matched up for the first round against Miami. The winner would play the winner of the UND/Holy Cross game, which everyone knew would be UND.

               The Miami game was a grind from start to finish. Miami was good, there was no doubt about it, but everyone stayed mentally strong. Denver started the scoring with a goal from the Deeks at the blue line in the middle of the first. Miami answered back a few minutes later.

               The second period was much of the same—a fight in the neutral zone leading to a lot of dump and chase playing. Miami struck first, scoring eight minutes in, but Denver tied it up with a goal in the last minute of play in the period.

               Surprisingly, third period was a scramble, neither team able to hold onto the puck for very long. When Adam broke up a pass in the neutral zone, his body reacted on instinct, skating straight for the goal. There was only one defender, so Adam deked in between his legs right above the hash marks and watched the goalie start to come aggressively out of the crease. Before the goalie could take his position, Adam took a shot on goal aiming for the top of the goal, blocker side. The goalie’s blocker went up, but the puck went right over the edge of his glove and before Adam knew it, he was being slammed into the wall by four of his overenthusiastic teammates.

               “Fuck yeah!” Charlie was shouting into his ear as he held Adam close in a hug. “Adam, you beautiful beautiful man!”

               Denver held onto the lead and when the final buzzer sounded, the entire team jumped onto the ice to swarm Berkie.

 

               They played UND the next day in a 0-0 nail-biter for most of the game. With three minutes left, Adam got a two on one breakaway and he headed straight for the goal. He could feel Charlie coming down the middle, perfectly positioned to receive a drop pass, so Adam slid it back to Charlie and then kept heading to the goal to get any potential rebounds.

               As it turned out, Charlie didn’t need any rebound assistance because he hammered it home, Adam acting as a perfect screen for the goalie. The ref pointed to the goal and Adam didn’t wait for anything else before turning and pulling Charlie into a hug, joined by Micks a second later.

               UND pulled their goalie immediately after that, but Denver somehow managed to hold onto their lead despite UND’s man advantage.

               Back in the locker room, the team began chanting “Frozen Four, Frozen Four” and even Coach cracked a smile.

              

               On Sunday, they found out that they would be playing Minnesota-Duluth in the Frozen Four. The winner of that game would go on to play Maine/BC.

 

               The Frozen Fury was being held in FleetCenter in Boston, so a little over a week later, the team arrived in Boston, ready to take on their competition.

               The Minnesota-Duluth game wasn’t easy, per se, but after the grinding games against Miami State and UND, the game felt wide open and fast paced. Denver scored twice in the first to go up 2-0 and just seemed to lead the game from there. Everyone on the team seemed to have a point by the end of the evening, Adam getting two assists and Charlie getting a goal, for a final score of 5-3.

               Once they got into the locker room after the game, everyone on the team kept smiling and breaking out into little bouts of laughter as they kept remembering that they would be playing in the National Championship in less than two days. A couple of the freshmen and sophomores looked like they were this close to pinching themselves to make sure that they weren't dreaming.

               Adam kept quiet in his corner, trying to compartmentalize and just focus on the small tasks at hand. He didn’t want to jinx himself or get ahead of himself. Eventually he felt someone settle right next to him, so he looked up from where he was untaping his socks.

               Charlie was beaming at him and Adam couldn’t help but smile back. “You ok, Banksy?” He asked.

               Adam nodded. “Just…trying to focus on what comes next. Not get ahead of myself. You know?” He said, feeling a little awkward and self-conscious.

               Charlie smiled softly and nodded. Charlie put his hand against the back of Adam's neck for a second and squeezed before standing up to go talk with Coach.

 

               Adam felt like he was going to jump out of his skin for the championship game against Maine, but he tried to stay calm and collected in the locker room while everyone got dressed. The freshmen were extra jumpy—their nerves even more obvious than Adam’s. When the team took the ice for a pre-game warm-up, Charlie made sure to skate alongside two of the freshmen, talking to them and calming them down.

 

               Once Adam stepped out onto the ice, he put everything except the game outside of his mind. He didn’t think about the fact that they were in the championships or how much of an impact this game would have on his future career or even if he would pass all of his finals this year. This was a game that he would play with his best friend and his team. Adam was going to go out there and have a good time and win.

 

               The game was an absolute slog and, like the UND game, Denver ended the first period tied with Maine. While Denver had led in possession, Maine had backchecked hard and attacked in the neutral zone, leading to several high risk turnovers by Denver.

               Second period was more of the same and Adam went into the locker rooms for the second intermission feeling more than a little frustrated. Once they all sat down, Coach drew everyone’s attention over towards the boards.

               “Alright guys, I want everyone to focus on getting it through the neutral zone. I don’t want to see any passes from halfway through the zone. Either pass immediately or skate it through. Understand?” Everyone nodded.

               Coach looked over at Charlie. “Charlie, do you want to say anything to the team?”

               Charlie looked a little surprised but rose to his feet. “Everyone—you’re doing great. We’re playing hard and strong. I know that we’re capable of going out there and winning. But, most importantly, I think we’re capable of going out there and having a great period. For better or worse, this is our last period of the season. So let’s make it the best one yet.”

               Adam couldn’t help but smile. Charlie always knew the right thing to say to the team.

 

               When they got out there and the whistle blew for the start of the period, time seemed to speed up. One minute, Adam was on the bench, the next on the ice sprinting for the puck, the next back on the bench.

               Halfway through the period, Adam’s line had the puck down in the offensive zone. Charlie had tried to get a shot on goal but it had gone wide and Adam had picked the puck up on the boards and cycled it down to Micks, deep in the offensive zone. Micks started skating it up and Charlie went behind him, trailed by one of Maine’s d-men, in order to pick up the puck from Micks’ cycle. Adam kept one eye on the play and skated straight to the backdoor.

               As soon as Charlie got the puck, he made eye contact with Adam and sent the puck over. It landed perfectly on Adam’s stick and before Adam could think, he tapped the puck in, watching it go right behind the goalie’s pads.

               The red light immediately blared and Adam was surrounded by Charlie grabbing him so tightly that he could barely breathe. Adam was smiling so hard, his face hurt. "Let's win this thing!" He shouted to Charlie.

               Maine came back with double the attack, fighting hard and peppering Berkie with shots on net. With two minutes left, one of the Maine forwards got a breakaway and the entire stadium held its collective breath until Deeks hooked the guy who then shot wide. Denver immediately touched up and Adam tried not to be pessimistic as Deeks was led to the penalty box.

               Coach looked down the bench. “Banks, Lewis, Kandell and Maruda, get out there.” The four of them scrambled onto the ice and Adam headed straight to the faceoff dot.

               Adam won the faceoff cleanly and passed it back to Kands. Kands tried to cycle it behind the net, but the Maine forward was right on him, so the pass went deep into the corner instead of straight to Maru. Both Maru and the other Maine winger went into the corner while Adam stayed high in the slot. As Maru raced the winger, his stick came up and Adam saw the ref’s hand go up immediately.

               Shit. Thankfully Maru touched the puck almost immediately and the ref whistled the play dead before Maine could pull the goalie and get an extra attacker on the play. Adam started skating to the bench so that they could get fresh legs on the ice, but Coach waved him off, keeping Adam and Kands on the ice and sending out Charlie for Lewis. Adam tried not to freak out--it was just a little 5 on 3, soon to be 6 on 3 in the NCAA championships. No big deal.

               As Charlie skated over to the face-off dot, he nodded once at Adam as if to say “We’ve got this”. Something about Charlie's confidence gave Adam confidence, and he lined up at the hashmarks and felt like yes, Denver could handle this.

               The next ninety seconds felt like  an hour, maybe more. Once Maine established possession, they pulled their goaltender for six skaters on Denver’s three. All Denver could do was try to stay in the way of their passing lanes and clear out anyone trying to screen Berkie.

               As each second ticked on by, Adam felt like there was no way that they could keep this up. His lungs and legs were burning as he sprinted in the defensive zone. Berkie couldn’t get a handle on any of the shots on net, so all of the rebounds went back into play, Maine scooping them up before Denver could even get close.

               Adam was beginning to think that he might actually run out of oxygen and pass out on the ice when he heard, as if from far away, the buzzer signaling the end of the game. And then he was sprinting to the net, Charlie, Kands, Micks, Deeks, the whole team behind him as they started hugging Berkie, who looked like he legitimately could be crying.

               When Adam finally broke out of the team hug, Charlie pulled him in close and put his forehead against Adam’s. Adam wasn’t sure how long they stood that way, but Adam felt like he could have stayed there forever, the two of them just appreciating the moment. Winning. Together.

               Eventually someone else came over and pulled the two of them into hugs and dragged them over towards the rest of the team where everyone else was receiving hats and getting ready to pose with the trophy.

 

               By the time that the team got showered and back to their rooms, everyone was ready to go out. At least half of the team was under 21, so they found a dive bar in downtown Boston where the bartenders didn’t care how bad some of the underclassmen’s fakes looked.

               Everyone was buying shots and drinks, happy beyond measure. Adam grabbed a seat at one of the tables after his second shot, pleasantly tipsy and wanting to just remember this moment forever. Charlie came over and just stood at the side of the table, a dopey smile on his face. His wavy hair had fallen in his face and he looked as overwhelmingly happy as Adam felt.

               “Scoot over, cake-eater. Stop being such a hog.” Charlie said finally. Adam snorted but moved over for Charlie to sit. There wasn’t much room so he ended up half-sitting on Adam’s lap.

               The rest of the team came and went, but Charlie seemed content to spend the night half tipped onto Adam. Drinks magically appeared on the table, and Adam and Charlie felt no need to turn them down.

               “Cake-eater, can you believe that we did it?” Charlie said to Adam when everyone else had left to hit the dance floor and or grab more drinks.

               “No—I mean, I knew we could do it. But it’s just…actually happened.” Adam said, unsure if he was even making sense.

               Charlie laughed and gently petted Adam’s hair. Adam laughed. “Are you petting my hair?” He asked, more than a little amused.

               Charlie shrugged but didn’t stop. “Your hair. It’s so soft.” As if that was explanation enough. Adam squinted up at Charlie—maybe that was a reasonable explanation. He was more than a little bit drunk so he couldn’t really be sure.

               Charlie looked back at Adam, a faint smile on his face. Adam felt his stomach squeeze slightly and he was suddenly aware of Charlie’s hand in his hair, Charlie’s arm against Adam’s, Charlie sitting on Adam.

               Adam kept looking back at Charlie and Charlie’s smile slowly faded. “Adam—I..” he started before stopping himself.

               The next thing that Adam knew, he and Charlie were kissing. He wasn’t sure of who had started it, but he knew with certainty that he did not want to stop. Charlie turned so that he was completely facing Adam, almost straddling Adam’s lap.

               Adam felt completely electrified, every nerve ending lit up. Adam wanted to keep kissing Charlie forever, drown—melt into him completely. Outside of hockey, Adam didn't think he'd every wanted something as badly as he wanted to keep touching Charlie. But eventually Charlie pulled away. He hesitated and looked around the club.

               “Do you…want to get out of here?” He said.

               “I want to get out of here so badly.” Adam said, laughing a little bit. Charlie grinned and grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled him up. Still holding onto Adam’s hand, Charlie headed for the front door of the bar. As they headed out of the bar and back to the hotel, Adam felt limitless, like the universe was open just for the two of them.

 

               When Adam woke up the next morning, a horrible hangover already banging away in his temples, it took him a minute to figure out that he had fallen asleep next to Charlie in Charlie’s bed and not his own. The evening was dim---and all Adam really remembered was winning the championship the day before. They must’ve really celebrated for him to pass out in the wrong bed.

               It almost wasn’t worth it to get up and move to his bed. Adam was considering just going back to sleep, wrong bed be damned, when he realized that he was partially undressed—briefs off, but shirt still on. And just like that, the night before started to come back to him in broad, hazy strokes. Charlie. The club. Oh god, Adam thought as his stomach flipped, kissing Charlie at the club.

               This couldn’t be happening—Adam wanted to play in the NHL, wanted to have a successful hockey career. A mistaken, drunken hook-up with a teammate and his best friend would derail that before it even started.

               Adam felt completely nauseated and he had a second where he thought he might get sick right there, but the moment passed. Adam got out of bed, grabbed his bag and various items of clothing around the room, being especially careful to stay quiet. Once he was semi-reasonably dressed, he snuck out of the room with his bag and headed down to the lobby where he allowed himself to freak out completely.

 

The next morning, Adam signed one of the six offers that had poured in after the Frozen Fury games: a two-way contract with the Colorado Avalanche and their AHL affiliate, the Hershey Bears. It wasn’t unusual for a player to sign with a team right after their final season ended and finish their classes long-distance. Adam had maybe thought that he would finish out the school year, but now—well, it seemed the right choice.

               If Coach or his dad were surprised by Adam’s abrupt turnabout, they didn’t say anything to Adam. His dad was almost ecstatic at the news—the combination of his son winning the NCAA championship and finally signing with a pro team pretty much everything that he had ever dreamed of. His dad was so caught up on excitement that he didn’t even ask once about Charlie—an oversight that Adam was more than thankful for.

               Charlie didn’t call or text. Adam didn’t call or text either.

 

               Adam made the Avs roster during training camp. He heard through unintentional backwater channels that Charlie had been signed by the Iowa Stars, the AHL affiliate of the Dallas Stars. Charlie was called up a few times during the season, so each time that the Avs played against the Stars, Adam found himself searching the Stars line-up during their warm-up on the off chance that Charlie had been called up for this game. Adam was never quite sure what he would do if Charlie were actually there, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking.

               In Adam’s second year in the big show, Charlie officially cracked the Stars roster mid-way through the season just as Adam was traded to the Wild. As Adam settled into the Wild and back into Minneapolis and St. Paul after a six year absence, Charlie also started to excel with the Stars, slotting in well with their first and second line. Adam tried not to go out of his way to follow Charlie’s performance, but it felt impossible when they were both part of a relatively small amount of professional hockey players in the country.

               Whenever the two of them saw each other—games or the occasional charity event—they were both cordial and professional. Nothing more and nothing less.

 

 

               Several things happened during the summer of 2008. Adam turned 26, the Wild lost in the first round to the Avs and Adam was invited to Connie and Guy’s wedding.            

               Over the years, whenever any of the former Ducks had suggested getting together, Adam always politely declined. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see any of them again as much as there were certain former Ducks that he would rather not see.

               Eventually, Adam’s polite refusals to get together and his natural awkwardness had meant that he had essentially lost touch with all of his former Ducks teammates. Well, everyone except for Connie and Guy. They had been the most persistent of the group and had dragged Adam out for dinner or drinks at least once a year or made an effort to come to some of the Wild games to see him.

               So Adam’s initial plan upon receiving their save-the-date had been to decline and just buy Connie and Guy a nice kitchen set from their registry. It was a win/win for everyone. Unfortunately, Connie and Guy had thrown a wrench in his plan by following up the save-the-date with an actual phone call

               “You’re going to come right?” Connie had asked matter-of-factly on the phone.

               “I, um, wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to make it.” Adam had said as he frantically tried to think of an excuse.

               “No, no. You have to come.” Connie had said while Guy chimed in with, “It’s been forever since we’ve seen you and most of the rest of the Ducks will be there. We really want you to come.”

               Adam had stuttered around, desperately trying to think of anything that would let him get out of the wedding. But Adam couldn’t think of anything fast enough and he had found himself promising to come before he could stop himself.

               So even though Adam had known that he was most likely going to regret it, he had checked the “I will be attending” box and tried to reassure himself that it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be. All Adam had to do was just avoid Charlie—it couldn’t be that difficult.

 

              

               Adam almost reflexively started keeping a lookout for Charlie when he arrived. Adam would almost certainly be expected to still be friends with Charlie—none of the other Ducks would have any reason to think that they shouldn’t be on good terms.

               Maybe, Adam thought, Charlie would arrive late, and Adam wouldn’t even see him until the reception.

               Yet when Adam walked across the parking lot over to garden ceremony set-up, the first person that he saw was Charlie, standing down at the end of the aisle, laughing at something Guy was saying. For a moment, Adam couldn’t tear his eyes away from Charlie. Adam hadn’t seen Charlie off the ice in over four years, but Charlie still looked pretty much the same. He’d grown into his lanky limbs and filled out with solid muscle, which his suit defined perfectly. But he still carried himself in that easy manner and his smile was radiant, capable of charming even the most unfriendly holdout.

               Adam had missed a lot of things about Charlie over the last four years, but he had missed Charlie’s smile the most.

               Before Adam could force himself to stop staring, what felt like an entire wall slammed into him.

               “Adam!” Averman shouted as he practically jumped on top of Adam to give him a hug. Averman was joined a second later by Russ and Ken and then by a small army of other people crowding in to give him hugs.

               “Cake-eater! How have you been?” Jesse said from somewhere in the crowd followed by Dwayne shouting something in that same twangy accent that Adam remembered from high school.

               “CAKE-EATER!” Adam was fairly sure that Fulton was yelling inappropriately loudly from across the grass. There was no way that Charlie hadn’t heard that. Adam wished the ground would open up and swallow him.

               “Hey! Guys, I think that he can’t breathe.” Julie’s voice sounded from somewhere. The group around Adam let out a collective groan and, thankfully, stepped back.

               Adam took a couple deep breathes reflexively once he had space and looked around him. It was one thing to know that it had been eight or ten years since he’d really seen everyone. It was completely different to find everyone actually almost a decade older. Luis had to be 6’3” and Ken had finally grown into his gangly arms and legs. Goldberg had gotten even rounder while Julie looked toned and solid in the way that only a professional athlete could.

               “Where have you been, man?” Russ asked, swatting Adam’s arm lightly. “We haven’t seen you in forever!”

               “You too good for us now?” Dwayne asked, there was a smile on his face but Adam could tell that there was more than a little truth to his words. Adam hadn’t meant to avoid the team—well, he had—but not because he was too good for them.

               “No, guys, I would never—“ Adam started, unsure of what to say. “I—“

               “I think we should give Adam a little bit of space.” Julie said, stepping closer.

               The thing that Adam knew, he was sitting next to Julie and a tall man on the bride’s side, halfway down the aisle.

               “Adam, Mike Yamada. Mike, Adam.” Mike and Adam nodded at each other. “Adam was also on the Ducks—he now plays in the NHL, on the Wild. Mike is my fiancé. He’s a goalie—almost as crazy as I am.” Julie said proudly. Adam nodded appreciatively.

               “Nice.” Adam said. “How did you guys meet? Goalie convention?”

               “Ha, ha.” Julie said. “We were both goalie instructors in an elite camp.”

               “What she’s saying,” Mike said, smiling. “Is yes. We essentially met at a goalie convention where I fell madly in love with her goalie skills. Apparently the personality is a package deal with the skills, so I guess that I’m stuck now.”

               Both Adam and Julie laughed. Julie gave Adam a rundown of her current career and what most of the team was up to these days. Something about her matter-of-fact attitude put Adam at ease. He could almost forget that Charlie was a few yards away.

 

               The ceremony was actually really nice. Connie looked great in her dress and no one farted inappropriately or forgot their lines. Apparently the Ducks really had grown up. Although, everyone did cheer loudly when Connie and Guy kissed making both of them blush bright red at all of the hoots and hollers.

               As the wedding party filed out, Adam could have sworn that Charlie looked over at Adam, but Charlie and the maid of honor were already walking quickly past—it had probably been Adam’s imagination.

              

              

               “So I finally make my way back to the table, thinking maybe I can try to stand on the seat in order to find Guy on the dance floor. But, what do I see when I get back there? Guy’s at the table, texting on his phone. I grab his phone before he can stop me and I see that he’s texting Connie. He’s been taking pictures of the evening and texting her a running commentary all night!” Charlie said up on the stage/dance floor where he was giving his best man speech. The crowd was eating it up.

               All at once everyone’s cell phones went off. Charlie made a face at the crowd. “Come on guys, wedding etiquette. Turn your phones to silent.” The crowd laughed, but it was a nervous laughter and more than a few people were just staring at Charlie. Charlie looked a little confused, but continued on with his speech.

               “Adam.” Julie hissed on Adam’s left just as Luis on his right said, “Adam!”

               Adam turned towards Julie. “What’s going on?”

               Julie looked a little bit uneasy. “You should check your phone.”

               With a deep sense of foreboding, Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket. Unlike the other half of the wedding guests, Adam had turned his phone to silent and so had missed a few calls and perfunctory texts from earlier.

               What did catch his attention was an ESPN alert from one minute ago. “NHL – Charlie Conway (DAL) traded to Minnesota Wild.”

               Adam’s stomach plummeted as the words set in. Charlie had just been traded. To Adam's team. There were 28 other teams that Charlie could have been traded to. Why did it have to be the Wild?

               Up on stage, Charlie had just finished his speech and he walked over to hand Guy the microphone. Guy whispered something into Charlie’s ear and quick as a flash, Charlie had his cellphone out.

               Adam couldn’t stop himself from looking at Charlie and so couldn’t miss as Charlie’s face went from easy and unguarded to completely blank, everything except shock wiped off it.

               It took a small eternity for Charlie to raise his head and look over at Adam. As Charlie met Adam’s eyes, it felt like all of the air went out of the building. More than anything, Adam wished desperately that he was anywhere but here—he wished that the ground would open up and swallow him. He wished desperately that he was at home to get this news, somewhere where he could absorb in the news in private, rather than with one hundred and fifty people he didn’t know very well and someone he used to know far too well. Somewhere that he could pretend for a few minutes more that he wasn’t going to be playing with Charlie Conway for the conceivable future.

               Eventually Connie stood up from the small dais where she and Guy were sitting and gently led Charlie off the stage. The maid of honor took the stage and started to half-heartedly give her speech, but Adam watched as Connie led Charlie over to Adam’s table.

               She and Julie must have had some girl telepathy connection because Julie had grabbed a chair and wedged it in between herself and Adam which Connie gently pushed Charlie into.

               “Adam,” Connie said. “I’m sure you and Charlie will have a lot to talk about. I’m sure that you both are incredibly excited. Right, Adam?” Adam stared at her for a few seconds. “About the team? To finally play together again?”

               “Oh, yes. Definitely.” Adam said, trying his best to sound reassuring. “Welcome to the team, Charlie.”

               Charlie looked at him a little blankly.

               “I’ll just let you guys to it.” Connie announced before heading back to her table. Adam looked around the table for some help, but everyone at the table was studiously engaged in their own conversations, trying to give Charlie and Adam some space. Great.

               “Well, the team is great.” Adam began saying. “It’s a fantastic group of guys.” He stopped, unsure of what else to say. There was a long pause.

               “That sounds good.” Charlie said, in a slightly strangled voice. “Excuse me for one second.” He grabbed his phone and stood up before walking quickly outside.

               Adam briefly thought about following him and making sure that he was ok. It was something that he would have done back in college or high school, but it really wasn’t his place anymore. So instead, he grabbed his seating card and flipped it over. He took a pen out of his jacket and wrote on the back his number. After second thought, he wrote a brief note letting Charlie to know that he should give Adam a call if he wanted to talk about anything.

               He dropped it in front of Charlie’s chair so that Charlie would see it when he got back and then grabbed his jacket.

               “Are you heading out?” Julie asked.

               “Yeah—I can’t stay for long and I think that Charlie needs some space right now.” Adam said. “Can you make sure he gets my note?”

               Julie looked disappointed but nodded at Adam. Before anyone else could notice Adam leaving, he headed out of the reception and back to his car. When Adam got to his car, he sat in the front seat for a few minutes just taking deep breaths. It was more than a little ironic, he thought. He could handle opposing team taunts, body checks and boarding. But he couldn’t handle Charlie.

 

 

               A few weeks later, Adam got a short message from Charlie. _This is Charlie_.

               Adam wrote back, _Great. Please let me know if you have any questions or need anything_. He didn’t hear back anything else for the rest of the summer. As it got closer to training camp, Adam thought about texting Charlie—just to get some of the awkwardness worked out. But each time, it was easier to just let sleeping dogs lie.

 

              

               Like every year, training camp felt like it started too soon and yet not soon enough. Although Adam was dreading having to see Charlie again, even Charlie couldn’t diminish from Adam’s excitement to play again with his team.

               “Banksy!” Gaborik called when Adam entered the locker room. A chorus of “Banksy!” followed Gabby’s pronouncement and Adam couldn’t help but smile.

               “Gabby, guys.” He said as he headed over to his stall. The stall next to Adam was currently empty and Adam did a quick check of the name on the top, although he knew before even looking that it would read “Conway”.

               A few minutes later, Charlie entered the locker room and there was a smattering of applause and people getting up to welcome Charlie to the team. Adam stood up as well and when Charlie got close, they both hesitated for a second before Charlie pulled Adam into a hug.

               “Good to see you, bud.” Charlie said. Adam nodded, unsure of what to say.

               “You guys must be stoked to play with each other.” Brent said from down the room. “God, I still remember the Junior Goodwill games that you guys played in. They were great.” There was a hum of agreement from around the room.

               Charlie laughed loudly. “You know, some days I think I’m more famous for my performance in those games than the fact that I play in the NHL.” Everyone in the room laughed along with him.

               “Man, I cannot wait to play against the Ducks!” Clutterbuck said and starting squawking like a chicken, prompting another round of laughter from the team.

              

               It became apparent during and after the practice that everyone thought that he and Charlie were not just former teammates but also close friends. Coach took Adam aside after practice and asked that Adam help Charlie settle in, as a good friend. Adam wasn’t quite sure what to say. How was he supposed to tell his coach that he and Charlie weren’t friends anymore. They weren’t even acquaintances.

               Charlie, for his part, seemed determined to try and get over the awkwardness. He made sure to be friendly with Adam in the locker room and on the ice. But Adam wasn't the only recipient of Charlie's charm. Charlie was a friendly guy in general and by the end of training camp, he was pretty much friends with everyone on the team.

               Adam, half jealously, watched him completely charm the rookies who stayed up with the team during the camp and made the roster. It wasn’t that Adam wanted everyone on the team to love him—he got along well with his team and loved playing with them. It was just that it had taken Adam most of his first year with the team to really connect with anyone and Charlie could do it in about sixty minutes.

               But, as Adam kept reminding himself, it wasn’t a competition between himself and Charlie. They were both there to play good hockey and help the team win. It was about the team dynamic, not their own.

               In all fairness to Charlie, Adam had expected training camp to be far worse than it was. Adam couldn’t help but feel awkward around Charlie, but they had limited interaction. When they were on ice together, it was only about hockey, and when they were off ice, Charlie was easy to avoid talking to with respect to anything except basic pleasantries.

               Adam could handle that.

               Except, when the season started, management apparently decided to really make Adam’s life difficult.

               “Alright, road roommates are the same as last year.” Coach said at the end of their morning skate practice . “Except that Banks and Conway will be rooming together.” There was a chorus of “of course”. “Foster, you’ll be with Gillies.”

               Coach looked at Adam and Charlie like he was doing the world’s largest favor for them. Adam pasted on a smile and tried to look slightly enthused. He didn’t look over at Charlie.

              

               In the history of Adam’s life, having to room with Charlie wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened. It wasn’t exactly one of the better things either, but Adam kept telling himself to be positive about the situation.

               Both of them tiptoed around each other in the room. Adam made an effort to be on his best behavior—cleaning up after himself, making sure to turn the lights out at a reasonable hour, asking for Charlie’s order whenever he ordered room service. Charlie was the same. It was like living with Adam’s grandfather.

               As for the team, the season started off similarly. The team didn’t start off by tanking, but they flirted uneasily with .500 and while it felt like the team was doing ok, there clearly were some underlying fundamental team issues.

               Charlie alternated between centering the first and second line while Lemaire figured out how he could best be used. Adam could tell that Coach wanted Charlie to permanently be on the first line with Adam, but Adam and Charlie just weren’t connecting on ice. Whenever they played together, Adam felt like he was overthinking it—taking too long to make the passes or having to think about where he should be skating to, rather than just instinctively knowing it, the way that he had always known it.

 

               Eventually after a 4-1 loss to the Rangers at the end of November, Charlie cornered Adam in the hotel room. Adam was surprised—Charlie usually went out with the guys for dinner or a drink. Adam used to make an effort to go out but with Charlie around, he had found himself begging of team social events more and more.

               “I can’t take this anymore.” Charlie said, glaring at Adam.

               Adam looked back, more than a little confused. “Take what?”

               Charlie pursed his lips. “We’re going out to a bar. Let’s go.”

               Adam thought about protesting but he knew that it would end up being a fundamentally futile effort. It was also likely to just piss Charlie off more. So he just shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, show the way.”

 

               Charlie found them a semi-quiet dive bar a block or so from their hotel. He sat Adam down at a table and then returned with a pitcher of beer and two glasses.

               “Alright, I think that this needs to be said. Whatever happened in the past between us, it’s in the past. If we keep whatever this is up, it’s going to really affect the team. It’s already affecting our performance on the ice together.”

               Adam opened his mouth to say something, maybe refute the point, and Charlie shot him a look.

               “You can’t tell me that you don’t think that it’s affecting our on-ice game. I’ve played with you before. I remember how we used to play together and I know that you do too. We’re both better than this.”

               Charlie looked at Adam and when Adam didn’t say anything, he looked away from the table and sighed. In a low voice, Charlie said, “Why can’t we be friends again? We were good as friends.”

               He looked over at Adam. Even though Adam should have felt elated—Charlie was saying that whatever had happened was good and done and they should both move on—he felt slightly disappointed. Like he had wanted Charlie to do something different.

               After a second, Adam sighed. A huge part of him wanted to say no. Being friends with Charlie felt dangerous, like not keeping his head up while going in for a puck on the boards.

               However, Charlie wasn’t wrong. They could play much better together. The team would be better if Adam got over his stupid hang-ups. And, perhaps most importantly, Charlie was looking at Adam with that earnest expression on his face. The one that made Adam’s chest squeeze tightly and made Adam want to close eyes completely. Maybe it was Charlie’s expression and how familiar it still looked, but Adam couldn’t help thinking back to the easy, open friendship that they had once had—Charlie dragging him out to parties, both of them studying together in the library, winning the NCAA championship together.

               “Me too.” Adam said quietly. Charlie gave Adam a lopsided smile and then brought his glass over to Adam’s and clinked them together.

               “To renewed friendship.” Charlie said.

               “To renewed friendship.” Adam echoed.

 

               Charlie took Adam’s willingness to try and be friends again as an excuse to barge completely into Adam’s life. Before Adam could even process their conversation, before they even returned from the road trip, Charlie was already dragging Adam out.

               “We have to take the rookies out to see the Museum of Air and Space!” He said when they were in D.C.

               “The rookies don’t care about the Museum of Air and Space.” Adam said in the Kettler locker room.

               “Rookies, do you guys want to go to the Museum of Air and Space?” Charlie asked the locker room at large. Inevitably, because it was Charlie, not only did the rookies want to go but about half of the team ended up going to the Museum of Air and Space, which meant that Adam was forced to come along.

               It was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, so the only people in the museum were themselves and school groups. The team got stopped every five minutes to sign something or take a picture. But even with Charlie tugging him into every other picture or photobombing other people’s photos, Adam found himself actually enjoying himself.

               Even better, the Wild ended the seven game road trip with eight points—thee wins and two shoot-out losses—which wasn’t bad for a road trip. When the team got off the plane in Minneapolis, Charlie sidled up to Adam while Adam was heading over to his car.

               “Hey, what are you doing tonight?” He asked.

               Adam shrugged. “Eating? Sleeping?” The team had left right after their afternoon game in D.C., but it wasn’t early enough that there would be much point in going out.

               “Don’t you lead an exciting, whirlwind life?” Charlie said, laughing.

               Adam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling as well. “What can I say? I live, breathe and eat fun nonstop.”

               Charlie ruffled Adam’s hair and then headed over to his own car.

 

               When Charlie showed up at Adam’s house an hour later with a bag of take-out, Adam wasn’t all that surprised.

               “What if I had decided to go out?” Adam said as he opened up the door and let Charlie in.

               “A ha ha.” Charlie said, moving past Adam and heading into Adam’s house. Charlie looked around, presumably trying to figure out where the kitchen or dining room was. “I asked you and you pretty much admitted that you lead a very boring life and I know you, you don’t do exciting things unless someone else makes you. Which led me to believe you would continue being boring tonight. So here I am, your savior.”

               Adam wanted to say, “You don’t know me at all.” But instead he said, “My savior may want to know that the kitchen is down the hall on the right.”

               They ended up eating their chicken and pasta on the couch watching the Timberwolves lose to Mavericks and making jokes about what Kevin Love had done in a previous life to end up on the team. It wasn’t a bad way to spend the evening.

 

               Charlie seemed determined to make up for lost time—he made Adam go out with the team for dinner and drinks or insisted that they carpool to the games. Charlie adopted a dog for Christmas and made Adam come with him when they went to the shelter to pick one out.

               Even the team seemed to notice. “Man, I knew you guys were good friends when Charlie showed up.” Brent said one day in the locker room. “But you guys are completely co-dependent.”

               “I think it’s kind of nice.” Mikko said. “Charlie’s finally made Banksy be more social.”

 

               Their on-ice performance substantially improved as well. Now that they had worked through their awkwardness, the two of them finally started clicking on ice as well. Coach was delighted by their performance and moved Charlie up to the first line for good. After a while, Adam stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he and Charlie really could be friends again and everything would be fine.

 

Both Charlie and Adam were named to the West All-Star team and so when the All-Star break came up in January, they found themselves on a plane for Atlanta. Charlie was like a kid the entire way there—completely excited for the game.

               “You have played in the All-Star game before.” Adam said. “I know that you have, you played last year while I was out with a sprained wrist.”

               “Yeah, sure.” Charlie said. “But I’ve never played with you on the All-Stars before.” He gave Adam a wide smile and for no reason at all, Adam found himself blushing. He pulled out a book to read.

               “You play with me all the time, I’m not that cool.” Adam said into his book. Next to him, he could feel Charlie laugh.

               “No one said that you were cool, cake eater.”

 

               The All-Star game itself was a blast. It was a run and gun game from the start and it was fun just to try and keep up. Charlie and Adam were on a line with Corey Perry and the three of them went hard whenever they were on the ice. Perry scored once in the first and then Adam closed them out with a goal in the third.

               The West lost 7-8, but after the game, everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Unlike every other game during the season, the All-Star game was the one game that truly didn’t matter. Yeah, everyone wanted to win, but it was mainly about having fun and showing off.

               Since no one had flights out until the next morning, the collective group of players decided to hit the town, see what Atlanta had to offer. Everyone who went out ended up at a club in downtown Atlanta.

               It was an incredibly loud, crowded place—the kind that Adam would prefer to not ever visit. But Adam could be a good team player, even off the ice, so he followed the rest of the group’s lead into the club. Half of the group immediately disappeared onto the dance floor and the other half headed to the back to try to find some tables. Adam headed straight for the bar to get a drink. If he had to deal with this, he did not want to deal with this sober.

               By the time that he got back of the club and found his group’s table, only Thornton and Horcroff were holding down the fort.

               Horcs disappeared almost immediately into the crowd. Thornton gave Adam a look. “Can you watch the table while I grab a drink?” He yelled over the crowd to Adam.

               Adam nodded. “Sure.” He settled in with his drink into the back of the booth. After a few minutes, he saw Charlie threading his way through the crowd towards Adam.

               “Banksy!” Charlie said, looking pleased as he climbed his way over to Adam.

               “Charlie.” Adam said, trying not to smile. Charlie rolled his eyes but scooted over towards Adam. Charlie’s arm was pressed casually, up against Adam’s, but Charlie didn’t seem to notice.

               It was nothing unusual. Or, at least it was nothing that would have been unusual if this had been five or six years ago. Before...everything. Adam knew that he should move his arm, or even himself, away, but he couldn’t make himself move. Adam wanted to lean into the warmth of Charlie’s arm, get as close to him as humanely possible.

               For the first hour or so, Adam held himself carefully, making sure to not lean too much into Charlie. But by the second hour, after numerous of the other players had come and gone and Adam was pleasantly drunk, Adam started to lean back into Charlie.

               When they made it back to the hotel, Charlie was just about supporting Adam, who had partially draped himself across Charlie’s back, which Charlie seemed to find hilarious.

               “I don’t think that I’ve seen you ever so touchy feely.” Charlie noted as he fiddled with their door lock.

               “Mmmm.” Adam said, his eyes closed against Charlie’s shoulders. He wanted to say “I was more touchy-feely back when we won Frozen Fury.” But even as drunk as Adam was, he knew that was definitely the wrong thing to say. “It’s because you’ve gotten more squidgy.”

               “Hey!” Charlie said, as he finally got the door opened and pulled Adam through. “I am not squidgy. I am muscle-y.”

               “Ok.”

               “No, say that I’m muscle-y, not squidgy. Take it back.”

               Adam opened one eye to the back of Charlie’s hair. “I’m muscle-y not squidgy.” Charlie made a noise of protest and then dumped Adam onto his bed.

               “Wrong person, cake-eater.” Charlie stripped down to his boxer briefs and then jumped on the bed next to Adam. Adam thought about getting undressed, but it seemed unnecessarily complicated.

               Adam poked Charlie’s side, which made Charlie laugh. “Stop that, you’re tickling me!” Charlie said.

               “But I have to figure out if it’s muscle.” Adam pointed out, trying to be reasonable. He poked Charlie again and Charlie laughed involuntarily before grabbing Adam’s wrists. Adam started moving his arms around to try and get free while Charlie tried to get Adam in a head lock.

               When Adam opened up his eyes, Charlie’s arm was curled around his neck in a gentle headlock and Charlie’s face was a scant few inches away. Adam froze. As soon as Charlie felt Adam stop moving, he looked down at Adam.

               There was a long moment where neither of them moved and then, at once, both of them flipped over to face the other side of the bed.

               “I think I’m going to just go to bed.” Charlie said.

               “Yeah…me too.” Adam echoed.

               They both lay there, awkwardly breathing in and out, until each of their breathing smoothed out and they feel asleep. It wasn’t until the morning, when Adam’s alarm woke both of them up, that Adam remembered that Charlie or him could have just slept on the other bed.

 

               Much like the escalation of hanging out, Charlie seemed to take the All-Star game aftermath as an invitation for free-for-all of touching Adam. Or maybe Adam was now just hyperaware of it.Either way, Adam couldn’t stop noticing that Charlie seemed to touch him a lot. Whenever Charlie wanted to get Adam’s attention, he would grab Adam by the shoulder or gently touch Adam’s arm until Adam looked over at him.

               Charlie started to bring over his dog, a pitbull mix that Charlie had named Mr. Ducksworth (“Cute, Charlie.” Adam had said—Charlie had just smiled proudly), over all the time and dragging Adam out into the cold Minnesota winter on walks with Mr. Ducksworth. Adam wasn’t, per se, a dog person, but he began to be genuinely fond of the overly affectionate dog.

               For the first time since last June, Adam began to feel completely settled again. He knew where he stood with Charlie, the team, with everything.

 

              

               As the team neared the trade deadline, they looked to be in a playoff position. The Western Conference was always a fight to the last game, so no one could ever be sure. But Adam optimistically felt like they had a fighting chance of making it.

               When Charlie suggested going out with the team after a home game against the Avalanche, Adam shrugged. They didn’t have practice the following morning and, even better, they had a three day break before their next game. “Sure.” He said.

               Charlie looked at him a little suspiciously. “Did you just say yes?” He asked.

               “Yes…” Adam said slowly.

               Gabby looked over. “Banksy actually wants to go out? It’s a miracle!”

               “Umm…”

               “It’s too late!” Charlie crowed. “You said yes—we’re going out.”

               “You would have made me go out anyways.” Adam protested.

               “But it’s so much more meaningful that you said it as well.” Charlie said as Burns, Bouchie and Pouloit took up a chant of “Club! Club! Club!” in the background.

               Adam groaned.

 

               Contrary to the locker room’s expectations, the group did not end up at a club. Instead, they all went to one of Adam’s favorite bars—more of a bar/restaurant than a loud club. It was nice to just sit out and enjoy a couple beers with the team, no pressure, everyone just relaxing.

               Eventually, as the older guys began to thin out to head home and the younger guys started congregating around the bar to get a better chance of meeting girls, Adam found himself sitting near to one of the windows, watching Shep really strike out.

               “What are you looking at?” Charlie’s voice sounded from behind Adam’s ear.

               Adam turned and smiled. He’d only had a few beers, but he felt light and loose. “Just watching Shep crash and burn over at the bar.”

               Charlie looked over and started laughing. “It’s almost a little painful. You feel kind of bad for him.”

               “I don’t feel bad for him.” Adam said. “I’m enjoying this too much to feel bad.”

               “Fair enough.”

 

               When they got bored of watching Shep try to hit on girls, Adam and Charlie headed out to the bar’s enclosed terrace. Charlie grabbed them another set of beers to drink while they talked.

               They didn’t talk about anything specifically, just the league and some of the guys that they had each played with. Charlie kept turning and looking at Adam, touching Adam’s shoulder to make his points. Even though Adam was sure that Charlie didn’t mean anything by it, but Adam couldn’t help flashing back to the night of the championship. Remembering how Charlie had looked at him. Remembering how he had felt.

 

               After some indeterminate amount of time, Adam realized that Charlie had stopped telling his story and was just staring at Adam.

               Adam didn’t look away. “Where are the rookies?” He said finally.

               Charlie didn’t blink. “I think that they left about thirty minutes ago. I saw Shep and Benny grabbing a cab and they were the last stragglers.”

               “Ok.” Adam said.

               “We should probably head out too.”

               “Ok.” Adam said. Neither one of them moved.

               But then Charlie moved in slowly, or maybe both of them moved in, and then Charlie was gently kissing Adam.

               Adam wanted the moment to never end. He wanted to kiss Charlie forever. He wanted to get up and take Charlie home. He wanted Charlie to keep touching him, leaving lines of electricity in Adam’s skin. But in the back of his head, Adam knew that every second he didn’t make himself stop, it would be that much harder to give up.

               Slowly, Adam pulled back. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly and then stood up and walked back out to the bar before Charlie could stop him.

               Adam bolted from the bar and even though he could hear Charlie yelling Adam’s name, Adam grabbed the first cab that he could see.

 

               Almost immediately, Adam received a text from Charlie. _Call me_. After another second, Adam received, _You want this too_.

               Adam typed out, _I don’t know what I want_. But after a minute of hovering over the send button, he instead held down the power button until his phone turned off.

              

               Adam normally slept eight to nine hours, but he didn’t get out of bed the next day until mid-afternoon. Every time that Adam woke up, he couldn’t help but remember the look on Charlie’s face as Adam had practically run out of the restaurant.

               But more important than that, more important than Adam’s feelings, whatever they were, was their careers. None of the major sports leagues in the US or Canada had any gay players. Adam wasn’t quite sure if he was entirely gay, but after last night, there was absolutely no doubt that whatever he was, he was attracted to Charlie.

               And for some reason, Charlie appeared to be attracted to Adam. Which almost made it worse. Adam could probably handle having feelings for Charlie. Adam had no clue how he was going to handle Charlie having feelings for Adam. Adam had never been able to deny Charlie anything.

              Regardless, Adam wanted to keep playing hockey. And it was clear that Adam couldn’t play hockey and do anything with Charlie. It was too great of a risk. So there was only one thing that Adam could do.

 

 

               Adam kept his phone off all the way until the next morning, when he had to get up for practice. When Adam finally turned his phone on, he saw that he had eight new messages, all from Charlie. Dread solidified in Adam’s stomach.

               The drive in to practice felt so much shorter than every other day. Adam would have given anything to have another day of not seeing Charlie, but maybe it was best to get it over with.

 

               Charlie was already in the locker room when Adam showed up. When Adam walked in, his gaze instantly snapped up and Adam knew that Charlie had been looking for him ever since Charlie had arrived.

               “Banksy!” Charlie said, his voice filled with false cheer.

               “Hey.” Adam said, trying to be as curt as possible. He walked straight over to his stall without looking over at Charlie.

               Charlie kept trying to make conversation with Adam in the locker room or on the bench and it wasn’t until Adam practically threw his gear off in the locker room after practice in his haste to leave, that Charlie seemed to understand what Adam was doing.

 

               Over the next few days, Charlie kept trying to talk with Adam, but Adam did his best to just give perfunctory responses. Adam refused to let himself check Charlie’s text messages or listen to his voice messages. Eventually, Charlie’s attempts became more and more half-hearted until they stopped altogether.

               Although Adam should have been cheering—crisis successfully averted—all it really made him do was want to curl under the covers of his bed and not come out. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he missed Charlie. And it was all the stupid stuff too: how Charlie would constantly sit right next to Adam so that they were touching, the way that Charlie smiled at Adam when he was trying to talk Adam into something, how Charlie dragged Adam out or came over for dinner, letting Mr. Ducksworth sit right there on the sofa with them and watch Sports Center.

               Adam could not stop thinking about Charlie—about how he had just gotten his best friend back and then lost him all over again. Or the look on Charlie’s face when Adam had stood up. But most of all, Adam couldn’t stop thinking about how good it had felt to just kiss Charlie. How happy and uncomplicated everything had felt in that one moment.

 

 

               Although Adam was acutely miserable, it wouldn’t really have been a problem if the team was doing well. Unfortunately, Adam and Charlie’s falling out coincided with the team going on a seven game losing streak. By the time that mid-March came around, the team had dropped out of a playoff spot and was just barely on the playoff bubble.

 

               Mikko cornered Adam after being bag skated from a 7-2 loss.

               “What’s going on?” Mikko asked.

               Adam shrugged. “Nothing is going on.”

               “Don’t give me that. I know that something is going is wrong between yourself and Charlie.”

               Adam rubbed his forehead. “It’s just…we’re working on it.”

               Mikko stared at Adam for a long time. Finally he said, “It doesn’t really look like you’re doing any work on it.”

               Adam flushed. “Right. I’ll…work harder.” Mikko gave Adam a hard look before nodding once.

               “Good.”

               And that was apparently that.

 

               When Adam got home, he called his dad.

               “Hey Dad.” Adam said.

               “Hey Adam.” His dad said. “How’s everything going?”

               “Oh, you know…it’s going well.”

               His dad made an unhappy sound over the phone. “Are you injured? You haven’t been looking great the past few weeks.”

               Adam sighed. “No, I haven’t been injured. I have a question for you.”

               “Go ahead.”

               “If a player were to do something, or act on something, that could threaten his playing career but would make him happier and probably a better performer on ice, should he do it?”

               There was a pause. “Is this something drugs? Because if you’re thinking about trying performance enhancers, you should re-think that right now, bud.”

               “No, Dad. I’m not thinking about doing drugs. This is not in any way connected to drugs.”

               “Ok—so what is this thing? Is it going to physically threaten the player or any other players?”

               Adam thought about it. “No, it’s not a physically threatening activity.”

               “Then how would it threaten his career?” His dad sounded confused which, in all fairness, was completely understandable.

               “Just…socially, I guess. If other players or coaches found out, they may not want to work with that player. Maybe getting called names. Probably empty threats. Stuff like that.”

               “Ok.” His dad thought for a few seconds. “But if the player doesn’t do…whatever this is, then his performance will suffer?’

               “Yeah. Probably. I don’t know.”

               His dad was quiet for a couple seconds. “Being able to be great at something is a rare gift. And whatever social censure this player might get, it’s probably not worth handicapping himself. Intentionally or not.”

               There was a long pause.

               “Adam, you still there?” His dad asked.

               “Yeah, Dad. I’m here.” Adam said.

               His dad making a slight noise. “You know, Adam, all I’ve ever wanted for you is to play professional hockey and play at your best. I’ve known from when you were a kid that you had an amazing gift. But more than that, you loved hockey. And sometimes, I’ve had a hard time distinguishing what I want and what you want. But here’s what I know unequivocally: I want you to be happy. If you’re happy playing hockey in the NHL, then I’m ecstatic. But I will be happy as long as you’re doing what you love.”

               “Dad…” Adam said, a knot forming in his throat.

               “I mean, as long as what you’re doing means that you are gainfully employed.” Adam gave a wet laugh. “But Adam, I’m being serious here, if something is holding you back from being the best player that you can be—you shouldn’t let others’ perceptions stop you from fixing that.”

               There was another long pause before Adam finally spoke. “Thanks Dad.”

               “Anytime. I love you. And I hope that you fix it, because you’ve played like crap the past few weeks.”

               Adam rolled his eyes and laughed helplessly. “I love you too.”

 

               Adam let it fester for a few more days before finally working up the courage to approach Charlie. After their morning practice, he headed straight to Charlie’s house.

               Charlie opened up his door up slowly. Adam could hear Mr. Ducksworth panting excitedly behind him.

               “What do you want?” Charlie said, his voice carefully neutral. He kept the door partially closed so that Adam couldn’t come in.

               “Um.” Adam said. He hadn’t thought much more beyond going over to Charlie’s. He had kind of been hoping that it would all resolve itself easily. In hindsight, that hadn’t been a great decision. “I came to apologize?”

               “Apologize for what?” Charlie said warily.

               “Well,” Adam started. “Everything? I’m sorry for the way that I reacted and ignoring you. I’m just really sorry for everything.”

               “That’s it?” Charlie asked.

               “Yes?” Adam said, positive that he was doing it wrong, but completely off-footed.

               Charlie closed the door in his face.

               Adam felt something almost break inside of him as he stood on the stoop for a minute hoping that Charlie would come back to the door. When it became clear that Charlie had left (even though Mr. Ducksworth could still be heard on the other side, presumably guarding the house from Adam), Adam finally turned and headed back to his car.

 

               Nothing really changed on the team. Charlie treated Adam with a cool, detached professionalism. Mikko and Brunny threw both Adam and Charlie concerned looks from time to time, but the rest of the team didn’t make any comments about it. Adam just counted himself lucky that the rest of the team was still speaking to him. He had no doubt that if it came down to it, most of the team would probably side with Charlie.

               Even though Adam and Charlie’s on-ice performance stabilized, Adam still felt like they struggled on ice. Their communication was stilted at best and even though they were still the top points line for the team, Adam had no doubt that they could be much better than they were.

               There wasn’t much time to dwell on it though. The team was in the desperate race for a playoff spot and even though they had moved up from 11th to 9th and kept winning, the Ducks, who were currently in 8th place, kept winning as well.

              

               It came down to the last game of the season. The Ducks had two points on the Wild, but the wild had more regulation/overtime wins, so if the Ducks lost their last game and the Wild won their last, the Wild would be in.

              

               It was a tough game from the start—the Canucks came out hard and forced the Wild into their own zone for most of the first period. The Wild was able to limit the Canucks’ high quality shots, but they peppered Backstrom with constant outside shots and seemed to grab every single rebound that Backstrom gave up.

               By the time that the first intermission came around, Adam felt grounded down as if he had been sprinting for the full 20 minutes instead of six or seven minutes.

               The Ducks were also playing at the same time in Dallas and one of the assistant coaches announced that the Ducks and Dallas were tied at 1-1 at the start of the second. It wasn’t great news, but it could be worse. The Ducks needed to lose in regulation, but at least Dallas wasn’t letting the Ducks walk all over them.

               The Wild finally broke out near the end of the second period. Bergy dumped the puck into the Canucks’ zone and Adam sprinted into the corner to get it. He battled for it along with the Canucks’ defensemen, finally tapping it down the boards from behind the goal to Gabby.

               Gabby passed the puck up across the slot to Charlie and Adam circled around the net right into the back door. Charlie made eye contact before putting the puck right on Adam’s tape. Adam tapped it in.

               Before the red light even went off, Charlie and Gabby were hugging Adam. Charlie held Adam in for an extra second after Gabby pulled away. He kept smiling at Adam and, in that moment, Adam knew that he would do whatever it took to figure things out with Charlie. But it wasn’t the time or the place, so Adam just kept smiling back and bumped their helmets together before they skated over to the bench for fist bumps.

              

               The Wild ended up winning the game, 3-1, and everyone kept smiling as they headed through the tunnel to the locker room. But as they started getting undressed, Lemaire cleared his throat to get his attention.

               “Anaheim won.” He said. Everyone in the room instantly stopped chattering. “They just beat Dallas, 4-2.”

               No one really said anything for a minute. Lemaire sighed and then said, “You played a good game—we had a good season. Everyone here worked incredibly hard and I’m proud of the progress that we made as a team.” He gave a long look around the room. “Everyone will be contacted regarding their exit interviews and clearing out the locker room tomorrow morning.”

               He turned and left the locker room, presumably to go talk to the media.

               Losing last year in the playoffs had been difficult, but getting so close and failing to even get a shot felt far worse. Everyone kept to themselves as they undressed, giving perfunctory answers to the media. A couple of the guys were going out for consolation drinks, but Adam knew from experience that it was best for him to just go home. Adam wouldn’t be good company for a few days, not when all he would think about would be all of the little and big failures that he’d had for the entire season.

               It was hard not to feel down when Adam knew that if he had gotten himself together, won just one more game, they would be in the playoffs right now, instead of preparing for a five month stretch without hockey.

              

              

              

               Adam spent a week being acutely miserable and moping around his house. At the end of the week, he steeled himself and slowly killed a bottle of red wine before calling Charlie.

               Adam expected it to go to voicemail and had mentally composed a message, so he was surprised when Charlie picked up after the third ring.

               “What.” Charlie said flatly.

               “It’s, um, Adam.”

               Charlie sighed. “I know, it shows up when you call.”

               “I was, uh, expecting it to go to voice mail…” Adam said, trying to regain his bearings.

               Charlie snorted. “Would you like me to hang up? I can let you leave a message.”

               “No! No, no, no. I’m really glad that you picked up.” Adam took a deep breath. “I’ve spent a week—actually, I’ve spent the last few weeks—trying to figure out how to make things right between us. Actually…can I come over? Maybe talk in person?”

               Charlie made a vaguely embarrassed sound. “I already left town. I’m up at my lake house.”

               That wasn’t a no. “Can I come up and see you there?”

               “It’s probably a three hour drive.” Charlie said slowly.

               “That’s fine.” Adam said in a hurry.

               “Ok…” Charlie said. “Are you sure?”

               “Definitely.”

               Charlie paused for a few seconds and then gave Adam the address. Adam frantically groped around until he found a pen to jot down the address and Charlie’s directions up to the area.

 

               Adam showed up outside what must have been Charlie’s house a few hours later. He took a few seconds to calm himself down in the car and then headed to Charlie’s door. Adam knocked a few times and then heard Charlie loudly yell, “I’m around the back, just come around the side!”

               So Adam went around the side, turning the corner to a nice deck and patio overlooking one of Minnesota’s beautiful lakes. Charlie was sitting out on a chair reading. Mr. Ducksworth lay over by Charlie’s feet but he jumped up and ran over to Adam as soon as Adam stepped onto the deck, licking Adam’s shorts enthusiastically.

               “Hey Charlie.” Adam said.

               Charlie looked over at Adam and nodded once. He didn’t look like he was eager to offer Adam any refreshments or make pleasantries. Adam took a deep breath.

               “I bet you’re wondering why I drove up here.” Adam started.

               Charlie frowned. “I somewhat have an idea.”

               Adam glared at Charlie. Part of Charlie’s mouth quirked up as if he couldn’t stop himself before Charlie schooled his face back to neutral.

               “I’m sorry for reacting the way that I did.” Adam said. “Right after we kissed and then ignoring you afterwards. It was completely unacceptable.”

               “Are you kidding?” Charlie said. “Unacceptable? That's putting it mildly. You’re 26 years old. You can’t pull that kind of shit any more. Whatever you’ve got going on,” He waved in Adam’s direction. “You have to be able to deal with it like an adult.”

               “Yeah, I get it. And I’m sorry that I didn’t. It’s just…” Adam said, trying to stay calm.

               “What? It’s just what?”

               “It’s terrifying!” Adam said. “Ridiculously scary. I had just got my best friend back and it was great and everything I could ever want. And even though as soon as it happened, I didn’t want it to stop, I don’t know what happens if I keep kissing you. Maybe it’s ok or maybe we become the league’s social pariahs. Maybe we never play hockey again.”

               “And you don’t think that any of it is terrifying for me?” Charlie demanded. He stood up and walked over towards Adam. “You don’t think that I wasn’t freaking out at any time too? Over hockey, my career, the team. Everything! And while that’s going on, I’ve got this constant refrain of how I’ve really finally screwed up our friendship forever. That I should have just let sleeping dogs lie, even though we both know that the other person wants something more. I’ve probably been in love with you since the beginning of college.”

               “College?” Adam laughed. “Try fifteen years old! Or maybe the first time that I walked into the Ducks’ locker room! I don't even know anymore! When I look back, I can’t find a time that I wasn’t in love with you.”

               Charlie opens his mouth to say something, but stops short and cocks his head. He gives Adam a very Charlie grin. “Wait, all the way back to our first season together?”

               Adam blushed and then tried to nonchalantly shrug. “Yeah, probably.”

               Charlie smiled wider before shaking his head and resetting himself. “What did you come up here for? Did you come up to apologize so that we could be friends…?”

               Adam took a deep breath. “No.” He took a step towards Charlie. “I don’t want to just be friends. I want something more. And I’m hoping that there’s at least part of you that still wants that too, despite how badly I screwed up.”     

               Charlie took a step closer to Adam. “You really screwed up.”

               “I really screwed up.”

               They were less than a foot away. Charlie rolled his eyes and gave a low laugh. “You are hopeless, really hopeless, Adam.”

               Adam slowly reached out and cupped Charlie’s face. Charlie closed his eyes and let Adam run his thumb over Charlie's cheekbone. Adam leaned in and gently kissed Charlie.

               Charlie brought one hand up behind Adam’s head and the other behind Adam’s back in order to bring Adam in closer so that Charlie could kiss back. Charlie kissed Adam desperately, barely letting Adam breathe and every touch filled Adam’s veins with bursts of electricity. Adam didn’t want to stop, he wanted to finally explore Charlie’s body, run his hands across Charlie’s skin, make up for lost time and kiss Charlie until the world stopped. But eventually, they broke apart to breathe and stared at each other, faintly panting.

               Charlie leaned his forehead against Adam’s and they rested there for a second, just breathing in and out while watching each other.

               “And what if it does interfere with hockey?” Charlie asked.

               Adam shrugged. “Then I’ll deal with it when it comes up.” He paused. “Although, I think that my dad already thinks that I would play better if we got together.”

               “You told your dad?” Charlie asked, sounding both surprised and amused.

               “Not really—but I don’t think I’ve ever really been subtle about you. And let’s just say that from our most recent conversation, I think he’s probably put two and two together by now.”

               Charlie laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint your dad.” Charlie reached his hand down and slowly interlaced his fingers with Adam’s. “So, do you want to kick off your shoes? Maybe have a beer and stay for a while?”

               Adam couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I would like that.”

 

              

               “I can’t believe that I’m going to two weddings in one year.” Adam complained half-heartedly while they listened to Mike’s best man’s speech.

               Charlie rolled his eyes from the next seat over. “I know for a fact that you wanted to come to this wedding.”

               “But all of this socializing sets a dangerous precedent.” Adam said, trying to keep a straight face.

               Charlie laughed and then leaned in close to whisper. “Think about it this way—this is the first wedding that you’ve taken me as your plus one.” Both Charlie and Adam had received invitations to Julie and Mike's wedding but Charlie had decided that Adam was Charlie's plus one since Adam would have likely declined otherwise.

               Adam blushed. Charlie leaned back and smiled. Discretely, Charlie reached underneath the table to gently hold Adam’s hand. Adam felt himself turning even redder, but he didn’t let go of Charlie.

 

               After the speeches were over and the dancing started back up, most of the former Ducks rushed the dance floor. Charlie had been dancing hard all night while Adam chatted with the other former Ducks players at their table, but Adam tapped Charlie’s shoulder when Charlie stood up.

               “Hey,” Adam said, after making sure that no one else was paying attention to them. “Can I have this dance?”

               Charlie did a double take. “I’m not exactly sure that going up on the dance floor is the greatest plan, but if you want to…”

               Adam shook his head. “Nope, not on the dance floor. Follow me.”

               Charlie raised an eyebrow but followed Adam as Adam made his way through the reception room. Once they got outside, Adam led Charlie around the side of the building over to a small garden.

               “Can I have this dance?” Adam asked as formally as he could. Charlie grinned and took Adam’s hand.

               Neither one of them were very good dancers, so they just kind of swayed to the beat, laughing as they both tripped over each other’s feet.

               The song ended and they kept moving around. Finally Charlie sighed. “We should probably get back inside.”

               “Mmhmm.” Adam said into Charlie’s shoulder.

               Charlie laughed. “I mean it.” But neither made a motion to move until abruptly Charlie brought his hand up to his face, a grimace on it.

               “Oh my god.” Adam said after a second. “Do you smell that?” He pulled back from Charlie and both of them looked around the garden.

               “Wait….” Charlie said. “I know this smell. This god-awful smell. You have got to be kidding me…GOLDBERG.” Charlie yelled.

               There was the sound of multiple people smacking someone and a lot of rustling in the bushes and trees to Adam’s left.

               “Everyone, get over here now.” Charlie said in his absolute captain voice. What looked like the entire attendance of the Ducks alumni trooped out of the bushes sheepishly.

               “Seriously?” Charlie asked.

               “It was all Connie’s idea!” Averman protested.

               “We just wanted to know!” Connie said. “Speaking of which…” She gave Charlie and Adam an exaggerated wink. “Good job, boys.”

               The group started whistling and hollering. Someone quickly started a kiss chant.

               “We are going inside.” Charlie informed the group. “Where people act like adults instead of 10 year olds.” He grabbed Adam’s hand and began pulling him back to the reception area. Everyone else kept chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” as they followed Charlie and Adam.

               “It’s my wedding day!” Julie’s voice came from somewhere behind them. “You can’t say no to a bride!”

               “That’s a made-up rule!” Adam responded but Charlie stopped suddenly and turned and faced Adam. Charlie brought his one free hand up to cup Adam’s face. He made eye contact with Adam and smiled before leaning in and slowly kissing Adam.

               When Charlie finally pulled away, there was a stunned silence and then the whistling and cheering started up much louder. Adam knew with certainty that he was lobster red, he was incredibly embarrassed and he had never been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> abstractconcept, I hope that you enjoyed! 
> 
> A million thank yous to Y, beta reader and amazing friend, who, um, emotionally reassured me as this fic and its length spiraled massively out of my control.


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